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RickPoetry

Rick

September 20, 2020

was this old friend of mine who gave me my first and only award for poetry. it was near 3 in the morning and…

Finish to StartPoetry

Finish to Start

Lance JencksSeptember 19, 2020

I kissed her cheek and whispered, "Good to see you." Snore opened to smile, her eyes looked up. "Hello!" she said like a girl.…

Bedtime, Children!Poetry

Bedtime, Children!

Susan PetersSeptember 17, 2020

Beware the old witch who eats lost children. Snuggle closely, my good little ones— warm and tasty from your bath. I will tell you…

LockdownPoetry

Lockdown

Miya KoSeptember 15, 2020

It's a conversation between the doorknob and me when I stare long and its glint in fake gold glances back as if for a…

Curtain ClosedFiction

Curtain Closed

Trish SaundersSeptember 12, 2020

I want to believe in reincarnation.  Maybe it’s because my father told me, just before he died, that he didn’t believe in an afterlife, had…

Cyndi Lauper Turns 80Music, Poetry

Cyndi Lauper Turns 80

Lawrence GeorgeSeptember 11, 2020

wings on silk dancing small, on fragile fingers dancing, tonight on some kind of neon, pink sea ancient, wooden boats will sail forgotten sailors…

With Your VoicePoetry

With Your Voice

Mark A. MurphySeptember 7, 2020

Not just a man who understood the confounding breath of the forest but a man who knew both fire and peace in the conversation…

A LaughFiction

A Laugh

Mir-Yashar SeyedbagheriSeptember 6, 2020

The bars close down. The virus. So I have my own drinking night. I line up four glasses of Merlot in my bedroom. Prep…

Heartsongs—an anagramPoetry

Heartsongs—an anagram

Joan ColbySeptember 5, 2020

Travel into the bitter north Following the shooting star To the fluorescent display that sears The distance. Aurora Borealis. An oath The night vows…

SHELTERING AT HOMEPoetry

SHELTERING AT HOME

Jefferson CarterSeptember 2, 2020

I come to in the kitchen, leaning against the stove, gripping an empty bag of Trader Joe’s white cheddar popcorn, tasting salt but unable…

Spying on My Beloved GhostsPoetry

Spying on My Beloved Ghosts

Susan PetersSeptember 1, 2020

The wood of the old farmhouse still crumbles, paint powdery and chipped. I pick at a flake with my fingernail float from room to…

Livestreaming My Own SuicidePoetry

Livestreaming My Own Suicide

Lance JencksAugust 30, 2020

It's quiet in the yard. Gray-green leaves barely rustle. Sun is out: I need to get off this couch. I was in Tangiers where…